I Know I've had my three poems a day,, but I couldn't resist...it's like chocolate!

Funeral Rites

When they bring the coffin to its rest,
a small piece of paper on its crest
you must read, and read aloud,
to the close assembled crowd,
“light the blue touch paper then retire,
unless you want to be burnt with fire”
cause fireworks i'll load within,
my coffin will be one big bin
of bangers, rockets, Katherine wheels,
sparkly shit to bring forth squeals
of “oohs!” and “aahhs” and shouts of glee
while like a Viking
I burn free
While all of you look up on high,
I'll burn with joy, and I will sigh
with happiness for pleasure won
my funeral will be second to none.

And only the council will complain
when they have to bury my remain
but still, it will not break their pot
And what fun!
We will all have got.

So fireworks is how i'll go,
If you don't do this,
I will know.
I'll come back every November fifth
and seek you out for your short shrift,
I'll spook you till your bones are cold
so, fireworks!
Or else...
be told!!

BT Gorman
in all hilarity,
Portsmouth